Falling Through the Cracks
by bionic4ever
Summary: OtL2: The young girl Jaime & Steve rescued from a serial killer has been gravely injured, and her foster family is missing. Can Jaime break through Cassie's shell in time to save them all?
1. Chapter 1

**Falling Through the Cracks**

Chapter One

The girl stared with vacant eyes through the glass and wire mesh windows of the Psych Ward. Tears she was probably not aware of poured silently down her face, and if she noticed when Jaime sat down beside her, she gave no indication. Jaime looked at her young friend and struggled mightily not to cry herself.

Cassie was only twelve, but she'd already endured more fear and pain than most people see in a lifetime. She didn't deserve this – whatever _this_ was. Just over a week earlier, she had been found, unconscious and badly injured, abandoned on the sidewalk outside the emergency entrance of the county medical center. A cast covered her right arm from wrist to shoulder, both of her eyes were blackened, with one nearly swollen shut and she was covered with angry, purple bruises that were just beginning to fade. Jaime thought the little girl looked worse now than when she and Steve had rescued her from a serial rapist who'd been just seconds from killing her, three months ago.

Cassie had been a runaway from a foster home, and once she'd recovered physically from the rape, the county had found a new one to send her to – her third one in the year and a half since her parents had died. For the first few weeks, Jaime had picked Cassie up and taken her to Steve's ranch every Saturday, to ride the horses. They also took long walks up by the river, where Jaime had been able to gradually draw her out of her shell and back into the outside world. Then suddenly, the family she was with had picked up and moved, and Jaime had heard no more from or about Cassie, until today.

When the hospital staff had found her on the sidewalk, they'd immediately tried to reach Cassie's foster parents without success. Police were sent to the home, and the family had cleared out, leaving no trace and no forwarding address. Cassie had been abandoned and was once again a ward of the state. She had arrived just this morning at the Psych Ward, when there was nothing more the hospital could do to heal her. In five days, she hadn't uttered a single word and was very nearly catatonic in her lack of reaction to what happened around her. A sympathetic nurse from the hospital, noting that no one from the state or the county had found time to visit the girl or even phone for details, remembered Jaime from when Cassie had been raped, and broke every rule in the book to call her. Psych wards could be horrible places, and the nurse just wanted there to be _someone _by the little girl's side who cared what happened to her.

Now, someone was. Jaime positioned her chair so she could look directly into the frightened eyes of her young friend. The guard at the locked door to the ward glared at Jaime, who wasn't related to the patient, wasn't a medical professional and had no real right to be there. She had phoned Oscar, who'd pulled a few strings and put pressure on the powers-that-be to allow Jaime visiting privileges.

Now that she was actually there, Jaime had no idea what to say, but her heart did. Her eyes tried to reach deep inside Cassie's pain-filled soul as she spoke in her softest, most comforting voice. "Hi, Honey." There was no response, but for a fleeting instant Jaime felt (rather than saw or heard) a spark of recognition. It gave her hope; Cassie was still in there...somewhere.

"You don't have to talk if you don't feel like it," Jaime continued, "but I'm here because I care about you. Please, let me help you." Cassie blinked once, but continued to cry torrents of tears without making a sound. Cautiously, very gently, Jaime took her hand and when she didn't flinch or pull away, began rubbing the girl's fingers with her own. "We helped each other before – remember?" While the murderer was still at large, for the first time since she was in college, Jaime had shared a horrific experience of her own; she'd told Steve (accidentally, at first) that she'd been attacked by a frat member and laughed at when she went to the police. Later, while Cassie was in the hospital, Jaime had shared the story with her, as well, and in helping Cassie deal with her anguish, had finally begun to heal her own long-buried wounds.

"Cassie, you were a huge help to me," Jaime told her. "Do you know that?" Cassie sniffled and blinked again, and Jaime could sense that she was listening. "I'd never dealt with what happened to me, and when you let me in and let me help you, I think it helped _me_ even more. Now it's my turn. I know you don't have a family, Cassie, but you've got me. Steve cares about you, too. _We're _your family, and I'm not going to let family drift away like this in some ugly old ward. I'm coming back tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, until you're well enough to leave here. And even then, I'm not gonna go away – you're stuck with me, Kiddo." Jaime leaned closer and looked directly into the young girl's eyes. "I love you, Cassie, and I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" No response, but Jaime was both stubborn and persistent. "_**Ok**_?"

There were still no words, but Jaime waited patiently until she was finally rewarded with the slightest of nods. She had broken through.

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Steve, I feel so helpless," Jaime sighed as she snuggled next to him in front of a roaring fire, later that night. He was there because he'd somehow known instinctively that Jaime needed him. Fresh from a two-week assignment in Thailand, he'd had no idea anything had happened to Cassie; he'd simply sensed Jaime's desperate need for the comfort of his arms and he'd driven to her house straight from the airstrip. Jaime quickly filled him in on the few details she had, fervently hoping a fresh viewpoint might help solve the mystery. "The doctors won't tell me anything, 'cause I'm not family."

"But she doesn't have any blood relatives..." Steve noted.

"She doesn't have _anyone._ Her caseworker hasn't even called the hospital." Jaime blinked back tears. "She's all alone, and she's falling through the cracks!"

Steve pulled Jaime closer and gently kissed her forehead. "No way. _We _won't let that happen."

"Thank you."

"Jaime...do you think she was attacked again – raped?" Steve asked. Even the thought was too much to bear.

"I guess anything's possible, but I don't think so. Her eyes weren't sad or helpless-looking; she was scared out of her mind! Steve, I think she was professionally worked over."

"The trial's long over, and that scumbag of a so-called Police Chief is in prison. It must have something to do with her foster family disappearing. Did they take off voluntarily, or...?"

"That's what I've been wondering," Jaime told him.

"Maybe one of them hurt her."

"I don't think so – not like that. And I don't think they'd just up and leave, either, knowing Cassie was in such bad shape. Something is really wrong, and Cassie's caught up in the middle of it."

"We need to find that family."

"Exactly," Jaime agreed.

Steve nodded. "And we both know someone in a great position to help us with that."

- - - - - -

"Absolutely not," Oscar told them, first thing the next morning. "I'm really sorry, I wish I could help, but the State of California has jurisdiction here; they're already looking for the family, and there's no cause for the OSI to barge into their case."

Jaime was ready to spit bullets. "_No cause_? An entire family – father, mother and three kids – vanishes overnight, their foster child is nearly killed, and that's not a good enough reason for you?"

Steve tried to reach for her arm, to calm her down, but she'd have none of it. Oscar sighed sadly. "For me personally, of course it's a good reason, but to officially mobilize the OSI's resources..."

"Then how about unofficially?" Jaime pleaded, "the same way you got me a pass into that Psych Ward? Operatives on their own time, working on their own volition, just happen to stumble across files that were 'unofficially' loosened from someone's locked file drawer?"

"Jaime -" both men said, almost at once.

"I'm gonna help Cassie if I have to do it all by myself, but it'd be a hell of a lot easier – and probably safer – if I had a little help."

Steve reached over and grabbed Jaime gently but firmly by both arms, turning her around to face him. "Sweetheart, you know I'll do anything I can to help you, and Oscar's not closing the door completely. He'll do what he can; he's trying to keep you safe and out of any trouble, legally."

"I'm gonna go and see Cassie now," Jaime told them. She strode from the room in a rush, leaving two very bewildered but determined-to-help men standing in her wake.

- - - - - -

"Good morning!" Jaime said in a soft, cheerful voice as she seated herself next to Cassie, who was once again (still?) sitting at the window. Her eyes were clear this time – no tears – and while she still said nothing, she did turn her head to look at her visitor before turning back toward the window. "I brought you something," Jaime continued. She held out a photograph, but Cassie was motionless. Jaime placed the picture in her hand, and smiled as Cassie's fingers closed around the edges and she lowered her eyes to gaze at the picture. _Baby steps are still progress, _Jaime told herself, glowing inside.

The photo was of the horse that Cassie had ridden so many times on her Saturdays at Steve's ranch. "Pumpkin misses you," Jaime told her. "I had to promise her I'd bring you for a visit, just as soon as you're outta here."

Cassie's eyes retained their frightened, haunted look, but with one finger she traced the outline of the horse as though stroking it, and the corners of her mouth twitched into an almost-smile.

"Would you like that?" Jaime persisted. "...Cassie?"

Jaime felt her own heart pounding while she watched the young girl struggle with her inner demons; the effort she was making was visible as her gaze began to focus on the present and her lips quivered slightly. Finally, Cassie nodded. "Yes," she said, in a barely audible whisper. Jaime longed to hug her, to thank her for trying so hard, but the girl was so bruised and battered that she took her hand instead, grinning broadly.

"Wonderful," Jaime affirmed. "I'm so glad." Cassie's lips twitched once more, into an actual smile, but as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. It was enough; Jaime had seen it. "Thank you, Honey," she said softly. "And welcome back."

- - - - - -


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jaime was practically skipping as she approached her front door, following her visit with Cassie – until she saw the slit in the screen door, barely visible, right where the mesh met the wood frame. She looked through her front window, and nothing seemed to be disturbed, but she wasn't in the mood to take chances. Jaime got back in her car, drove to the nearest pay phone, and called Steve.

"You did the right thing, Sweetheart," he assured her. "Why don't you go down to the corner and grab some coffee or something, and I'll meet you there; I don't want you going back to the house alone."

"It's probably nothing..." Jaime hedged.

"Then it's a good excuse to come and see you."

"Like you need one, Austin," Jaime responded, smiling to herself.

Half an hour later, Jaime and Steve made their way up to her house, arm in arm. Steve examined the screen door with a frown. "I don't like it. You hear anything?"

"No," she answered. "I'm going in."

"Wait a minute, Jaime – _I'll _go in; stay here."

"No deal. The point of your coming over was so I didn't have to go in alone, but I _am _going in."

Steve had learned over the course of many years that it didn't pay to argue with Jaime when she'd made up her mind. He sighed, and was at least able to reach the doorknob first, to slowly pull the screen door open. The heavy inner door was still locked.

Jaime saw it first. "Steve – look!" Fluttering at their feet was a small, yellow envelope.

"I'll get it," he told her, reaching down before she could grab it. Inside was a single half-sheet of unlined paper with what appeared to be only a partial sentence, in handwriting neither of them recognized:

_Mom, two kids, WPP._

- - - - - -

"I've put the family's name through every available database," Oscar told them. "Nothing. There's no trace of them, anywhere. Hospitals, prisons...morgues -"

"Oscar!" Jaime protested, knowing he was right. She settled back into her chair and held Steve's hand. "Thank you."

"The foster family had – _has –_ two kids," Steve puzzled, "so that part fits, but the note doesn't mention the father. Maybe he did something to Cassie, and that's what the second part of the note is trying to say."

"No," Jaime answered. "I just don't think he has it in him to hurt anyone. Besides, like I told you, Cassie's eyes don't look wounded; she's scared to death. I think she saw something...or knows something..."

"I have a possibility for you," Oscar informed them. "I did come up with one hit on 'WPP'."

"Is it a code?" Steve asked.

"The computer kicked it back as an abbreviation – for _Witness Protection Program_."

"Of course!" Jaime was instantly on her feet. "Did it say where they were?"

"Babe, it didn't even confirm that this family is in the Program; it just 'decoded' the letters for us."

Jaime nodded grimly. It was beginning to make sense. "If the father isn't with them, I'm guessing something happened to him, and Cassie saw it. Someone tried to eliminate the witness." Her voice nearly broke as she thought of what her young friend might've endured.

"But what did she see," Steve wondered, "and who left her outside the hospital?"

"I have to go and see her. Oscar, I know you've already pulled strings, but is there any way you can pull a few more and get Cassie released into my custody?"

Steve frowned. "Jaime, she's in a Psych Ward, and she's catatonic -"

"Not completely. Look, she's not gonna tell me anything with a guard breathing down her neck. If we took her to your ranch, where she feels relaxed, maybe she'll open up. Might take some time, but I think it's our only shot."

The two men looked at each other and shrugged. Jaime had already made her decision.

- - - - - -

No progress was made that day toward finding Cassie's foster family, but that evening, an emergency court order in her hand, Jaime showed up at the place she thought of as a snake pit, eager to get Cassie out. In the meantime, Steve was readying both of his ranch's guest rooms for his two highly anticipated visitors. He also groomed Pumpkin, even though Cassie probably wouldn't be able to ride him for quite some time.

Jaime saw that the same guard who had been at the locked door to the ward during both of her previous visits was there again. _Damn – he works longer hours than I do,_ she thought to herself. She'd spoken to the administrator, checked in at the desk and had finally arrived to give Cassie the good news.

Cassie was _still _in a chair by the window. For the first time, she looked up when Jaime came in, and very nearly smiled. "Hi, Honey," Jaime said, grinning. "I've got a surprise for you. How'd you like to come and stay with Steve and me at his ranch, until you feel better?"

The little girl flashed the briefest look of happiness before glancing over at the guard and looking back at Jaime with frightened, questioning eyes.

"It's ok, Cassie," Jaime reassured her. "They know all about it. Want me to help you pack?" The girl didn't move. "Or I could pack for you." Jaime looked around, and there didn't appear to be much of anything there that actually belonged to Cassie. "Can we get a wheelchair, please?" she asked the guard.

He glared sullenly at them both for a moment, and when he saw Cassie turn back toward the window he shook his head slowly at Jaime. "Sorry, but I can't let you take her."

"I've already cleared it with your boss in the main office -"

"That's too bad."

Jaime was growing annoyed with this overly-bureaucratic idiot. "Look – I've got a court order, and -"

The guard pulled a very small but very deadly-looking pistol from his pocket. "Well, I have this. And you are _not _taking the girl!"

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jaime glared in disbelief at the 'guard'. "Whatever your problem is, how 'bout we talk about it in the hallway?" She hoped to put a little more distance (and a door) between the thug and the little girl.

"Nothin' to discuss," the guard said with quiet menace. "She's not leaving, and now, unfortunately, neither are you."

Jaime wondered briefly if he was with the Witness Protection Program, but realized with sinking certainty that he was most likely the man who'd hurt Cassie, and the reason she was too afraid to open her mouth. "Look," she countered, not the least bit intimidated, "I'm a Federal Agent, this is a court order and you're making a _big _mistake."

"Lady, I don't give a damn who you are!" The man snaked his arm roughly around Jaime's waist, shoving the gun barrel into her stomach. "Let's go."

"I don't think so," Jaime told him. She drew back her right arm and elbowed him in the chest with enough force to send him flying backward, through the door and into the hallway. As he went down, he got off one shot which struck Jaime in her right leg, just above the knee. She tried to compensate, but the leg began to give way and she stumbled, enabling the man to catch his breath and ready the gun for another shot.

At the very last second, as the man stood over Jaime, a chair flew out of the ward, accompanied by a fierce scream. _"No! Don't you hurt her!" _ The well-aimed chair struck him in the head, knocking him unconscious, and Jaime was immediately surrounded by orderlies, real guards...and a smiling, newly-empowered 12-year-old girl.

- - - - - -

Steve pushed Cassie's wheelchair onto the front porch, went back inside and returned pushing Jaime, also temporarily in a wheelchair. He parked them both where they could see the meadow and the horse corral, and then smiled as he placed a hand on Jaime's shoulder. "Either of my two best girls need anything?"

"No, thank you," Cassie said softly.

"A kiss...?" Jaime ventured.

Steve granted her wish, then saluted. "I'll leave you alone to talk, then," he told them. "Holler if you need anything."

Once Steve had disappeared back into the house, Cassie looked over at Jaime with sad, soulful eyes. "I'm sorry you got hurt," she whispered.

Jaime reached over to touch her friend's hand. "It would've been a lot worse if you hadn't done what you did, Honey. You're a hero, you know."

Cassie blushed. "I couldn't let him shoot you."

"Thank you."

"You said that already – too many times. So did Steve," Cassie said, almost smiling.

"Cassie, that man...he's the one who hurt you, isn't he?"

Cassie closed her eyes tightly, as if afraid to answer, but finally managed to nod. "He told me if I said a word to anyone – ever – he'd kill Allen."

"Your foster dad?"

"Uh-huh. Then he would find the rest of the family and kill them, too."

"I'm so sorry he did that to you," Jaime said gently. "Honey, do you know where Allen is?"

Cassie stiffened visibly in her wheelchair and shook her head. "I don't know where any of them are, anymore."

"We'll find them." Jaime and Cassie both sat silently for a few minutes, feeling the warm breeze on their faces. "Cassie? What happened, right before he hurt you? What happened to Allen?"

The girl's face turned red, and she shook her head vehemently. Jaime knew there was something there – something huge – but to try and force it would only make everything worse.

"When you're ready, I'm here; or you could talk to Steve about it, if you'd rather do that. We'll help you, if you let us."

"Thank you," Cassie whispered, then finally re-opened her eyes.

- - - - - -

The next morning, as promised, Rudy drove out to the ranch to do a quick patch job on Jaime's leg. She'd asked him to hold off on full surgical repair until Cassie was stronger, since it would mean a hospital stay of a couple of days and Jaime wanted to give Cassie her full attention for the time being. Steve went outside to meet him, and was surprised to see Oscar step out of the car, as well.

"Two visitors for the price of one," he mused, shaking both men's hands. "Social call, Oscar?"

"If you consider information social," Oscar replied. "Let's take a walk." He and Steve headed toward the edge of the property while Rudy went inside, helped Jaime get Cassie comfortably situated in the den with some books and art supplies and then got to work on Jaime's leg.

It would be an easy repair; the bullet had lodged less than halfway into her leg, its metal preventing her circuitry from shorting or burning. Jaime would require no sedation.

Meanwhile, Oscar and Steve were far enough from the house that Steve felt safe in discussing whatever his boss and friend had come to tell him. "What's up, Oscar?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"I found out a few things about Allen Phelps," Oscar told him. "Highly respected Astronomy professor at USC -"

"Which we knew -"

"Who was recently recruited by Jack Hansen at the National Security Bureau."

"I should've known Hansen would have his grubby paws in this," Steve scoffed, spitting out the name like an extremely bitter pill.

"Actually, he doesn't," Oscar corrected.

"That would be a first, but you just said -"

"I said the NSB _recruited_ Phelps; he signed on and passed all thebackground checks but never showed up for his assignment."

"Which was...?"

"He was on his way to White Sands to assist in the design of a new missile defense system. He had the preliminary blueprint with him -"

"And he never made it," Steve concluded.

"Right. Jack is over at FBI Headquarters, trying to find out what happened. We should know something soon. Maybe -" Oscar stopped mid-sentence as a scream of raw terror pierced the morning air.

_"That's Cassie!"_ Steve exclaimed, taking off for the house in a bionic run.

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jaime had wrapped a blanket around herself (to hide the in-progress repair of her leg) and was tending to a sobbing, nearly hysterical Cassie while Rudy retreated into the bedroom to prepare a shot in case Jaime couldn't calm her friend down.

"What happened?" Steve asked.

Jaime didn't look up. "It's ok, Honey," she crooned to the child. "He's a doctor – a good guy – and he's here to help me. You met him when he came in, remember?"

Cassie had been introduced to Rudy, but, feeling very shy, had nodded 'hello' while staring at the floor. When he'd come down the hall a few minutes earlier, to re-wash his hands, she'd been looking out the window and he crossed her line of vision; immediately, Cassie had begun to shriek. Steve sat in a chair across the room, out of the way but quietly ready to step in if needed.

"Cassie, Honey," Jaime said softly, "what scared you so badly?"

"He...his coat...glasses...mustache," the little girl choked out between gasps for air. She was in full panic mode.

"Did he remind you of someone?"

"Y-yes..." Her cries began to quiet as she leaned into Jaime's comforting shoulder.

Jaime looked up at Rudy, who was now just outside the bedroom door, waiting. "Is it ok if he comes back out here, so you can see he's not who you thought he was?"

Jaime asked. Cassie nodded, and Rudy approached the two of them slowly, kneeling down to Cassie's eye level.

"I didn't mean to scare you, Sweetheart," the doctor said gently. "I'd like to help, if you'll let me."

"Cassie," Jaime began carefully, "will you look at Doctor Rudy and tell us what you're remembering?"

The little girl raised her eyes and took in Rudy's kind, smiling face, but shook her head. "Can't...talk about it."

"You're safe, Honey," Jaime promised. "No one's gonna hurt you here."

"I think I've got it," Steve said, leaning forward in his chair. "Cassie, you saw the man who took Allen away, didn't you?" Cassie nodded. "And he was wearing a white coat and glasses?"

"And he...he had a mustache," Cassie added, sniffling.

Steve nodded, and went out to the porch to talk to Oscar. "We need pictures of every person assigned to White Sands the day Allen Phelps was supposed to arrive there," he told his boss. "Can you get them – fast?"

- - - - - -

When Oscar Goldman needed something done quickly, mountains would be moved it that was what was necessary to accomplish the task. The requested photos were delivered to Steve's ranch by private messenger, just over an hour later. When the phone rang shortly afterward, Oscar was hoping it was Hansen, with news from the FBI; it wasn't. Russ was calling from the California office, but he did have information, and it was urgent.

"Phelps wasn't the first White Sands team member to go missing," Russ relayed grimly. "They – uh – found the other two."

"Oh?"

"Dead."

"Oh. Why was I never told about this?" Oscar snapped.

"Not our project and not our case."

"It is now."

"Oscar, you might want to wait before jumping in," Russ cautioned. "The details are murky, but it seems the FBI is in this one, too."

"Perfect." Oscar was one of the most powerful men in the United States, and yet his hands were effectively tied until he heard from a man he did _not_ consider a friend.

Oscar's mood didn't improve when he finally got Jack Hansen's call. Jaime had been sitting with Cassie until the mild sedative had taken effect, allowing the child to take a calming nap. She joined Steve in the den just as Oscar slammed the phone down into its cradle. Jaime and Steve exchanged an 'oh-oh' glance when they saw the veins beginning to bulge in Oscar's neck, announcing he'd passed anger and was headed straight into fury.

"Oscar?" Jaime asked hesitantly.

"We double-crossed ourselves," Oscar sputtered. "_Unbelievable_!" He sat down opposite Jaime and Steve and took a deep breath that failed to cool him down. "It seems the FBI had become aware of what was happening to the White Sands designers. When they got word that Hansen had recruited another one, _they _recruited him, as well."

"I don't understand..." Jaime said softly. "Who was he working for?"

"Both! The FBI had him wired, in case he was grabbed, so they could find the people responsible. And if he'd made it to White Sands, he would've begun his assignment for the NSB. The blueprints he was carrying were phonies."

Jaime frowned. "What about Cassie? Oscar, _what happened_?"

"An attempt was made to kidnap Allen Phelps from his own driveway. His wife and children – and Cassie – were inside the house. That's all I know so far."

Steve sat up straighter. "An attempt? Then...they weren't successful?"

"They were, to a point. They got Phelps into their vehicle and were taking him away, when they were intercepted a few miles down the road by the FBI. Allen Phelps is safe, unharmed and under heavy guard at an FBI safe house. They got the kidnappers, and Jaime, you got their strong arm man, but there was mention in the file of a scientist-type. He hasn't been located."

"A scientist?" Jaime looked at Steve with wide eyes. "The man Cassie talked about, in a lab coat..."

"Where's Cassie now?" Oscar asked quickly.

"She's asleep."

"I need her to look at those pictures, as soon as she's able. Once we catch the last participant, there'll be no further need for Phelps or his family to stay in hiding. Can she handle it?" Oscar wondered.

"I hope so," Jaime said slowly. "I'll do the best I can."

Oscar nodded. "She might be the only chance we have to find the missing link."

- - - - - -


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

When Cassie woke up from her nap, everyone else had temporarily made themselves scarce, as Jaime had requested.

"Hey, Sleepyhead," Jaime said with a smile in her voice, "look – I'm outta my chair now, thanks to Doctor Rudy, so I can chauffeur you around. Feel like a little fresh air?" Cassie nodded, and as they headed out the door, Jaime picked up the folder of pictures from the kitchen table, to take them along. She also picked up an apple from the basket of fruit and handed it to Cassie. "I'll bet Pumpkin's starving."

The little girl broke out her widest grin. "I can take care of that," she said softly. Jaime parked the wheelchair close to the fence and the horse trotted over without needing an invitation.

"She's happy to see you, too," Jaime told her. Once the apple had been eagerly extended and accepted, Cassie reached out to pat the animal, who leaned low through the fence to nuzzle her. "So," Jaime began, once both the horse and the child were thoroughly happy, "will it be the meadow or the river, Madam?"

"The river."

Jaime rolled the chair up the path and parked it a few feet from the water, then lifted Cassie out and gently settled her into a cushy spot in the grass. "We need to talk, Honey," she said quietly.

"I know."

"Cassie, the man who scared you – the one who looked like Doctor Rudy – would you recognize him, if you saw his picture?"

"Yes..."

Jaime handed her the folder. "I know it's an awful lot to ask, but it's really important. I need you to look at these pictures, one at a time, and just see if any of them look familiar."

One by one, Cassie sorted through the photos of every scientist and researcher from White Sands. With each new photo, she shook her head. Finally, near the bottom of the stack, her hands began to tremble and her eyes welled with tears. Silently, she handed the picture to Jaime, who was instantly very confused. The man looked nothing like Rudy: no mustache, no glasses, and he had blond hair.

"Are you sure he's the one?" Jaime asked. The child nodded. "What about him looks like Doctor Rudy to you, Honey? Is it the lab coat?"

Cassie sniffled, bravely wanting to help if she could. "No – not him; behind him." She stared down at the grass, finally giving in to her emotions.

Jaime took a closer look, and barely visible in the background of the photo was a janitor...with glasses and a mustache.

- - - - - -

Jaime hovered almost parentally as the OSI psychiatrist administered the mild drug cocktail they hoped would make Cassie comfortable enough to talk about what she saw the day Allen Phelps disappeared. More specifically, they needed to know how – and _why –_ she'd been hurt. Relaxed and comfortable, Cassie was not, but very slowly and gradually, she did begin to talk.

"Allen told Connie that he was driving himself almost the whole way there," she began, very softly. "He wrote something on a piece of paper and told her she could pick up the car there, the next day. He took suitcases to the car, and came back in to say goodbye."

"Good, Honey," Jaime told her. "Then what happened?"

"A man..." Cassie began to squirm restlessly in the chair. "A man came to the door. I heard him ask for Allen. He said he was from...um...that place -"

"White Sands?"

"Yeah. Then he said something I couldn't hear, and Allen said _Leave my family out of this_. He went outside."

Cassie fell silent, and Jaime moved a little closer to the chair. "Cassie, was the man at the door the same one who hurt you?"

"No. It was...the man in the picture."

"Ok; what happened next?"

"Connie told us – me and Jake and Lucy – to go down to the basement, and - and...Jake and Lucy did. Connie went with them."

"But you didn't?"

"I was going to, but I saw..." She began breathing much too fast, and Jaime gently took her hand.

"You're safe here, Honey. What did you see?"

"I saw it out the window. The man – he had a gun. He was grabbing Allen's arm, and I yelled for him to let go."

"That was very brave."

"The...the door opened, and that big man – the one from the hospital – he grabbed me and...pulled me outside. Allen said he'd go with them, and he did. The big man told me I shoulda kept my mouth shut and then he..." Cassie shook her head. This part was simply too much for her.

"He hurt you," Jaime finished for her.

"Y-yes."

"Cassie, you're doing a great job, Honey, and we're almost done."

"Ok."

"Do you remember how you got to the hospital?"

"No, but I think the picture man took me."

"He didn't go with Allen?" Jaime asked.

"No. He kept telling the big man to stop – that it was enough. He tried to make him leave me alone. That's...all I remember."

Jaime wrapped a gentle, protective arm around the little girl and kissed her cheek, then looked up at the psychiatrist who had remained wordlessly vigilant in a chair across the room. "We're done now."

- - - - - -


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"I'm sorry, Jaime," Oscar told her, pacing the length of his California office so he wouldn't have to see her angry glare. "We've done everything we could -"

"Yeah, well, it's wonderful that Allen is back with his wife and kids, but Cassie is part of their family, too! Why can't she go home?"

"It's out of our hands; the state of California -"

"The state of California can bite my -"

"_Jaime_!" Steve interrupted, entering a battle he'd been trying to stay out of.

"You know why," Oscar said, sinking wearily into his chair. "The Phelps family put her in danger, and the state can't condone sending her back there."

"The family didn't put her in danger! Allen Phelps didn't do anything wrong, and you know it."

"There's nothing more we can do," Oscar concluded.

"Then _I'll_ become a foster parent. I won't let Cassie fall through the cracks," Jaime insisted.

Steve took Jaime's hand, already knowing she wouldn't be comforted _or _quieted. "Sweetheart, that sounds wonderful, and I'd love to help you, but in our line of work, neither one of us could hope to qualify."

"But...she's only twelve years old – _twelve!_ - and no one is looking out for her!"

"What _will_ happen to Cassie?" Steve asked quietly.

"The state will find a new placement for her, once the trials are over. Until then, she'll have to remain in protective custody."

"I can do protective custody!" Jaime exclaimed. "Of course, it's not my ranch..."

Steve grinned at her. "You know you can stay as long as you'd like – _both_ of you."

"Thank you." She looked expectantly at Oscar. "Well?"

"Looks like Cassie has herself a qualified and extremely dedicated bodyguard," Oscar surmised.

Steve nodded. "Times two."

- - - - - -

In the weeks leading up to the White Sands trials, Jaime gradually and very gently helped Cassie bring out and begin to deal with the remainder of the details she'd need to complete her videotaped testimony. To everyone's relief, she had _not_ been molested, but the beating she'd suffered was inhumane beyond what anyone had imagined. The 'janitor' had been the one to drop her off outside the hospital, which mitigated his own guilt only slightly, since he'd been the one with the gun.

Just before the trials were to begin, out of nowhere, there was a minor miracle: the pseudo-scientist (who was never really a janitor to begin with) began to talk. Yes, the original plan had been his idea, but no one was supposed to die. The drug that had been intended to erase the first two victims' memories had killed them, instead. Allen Phelps would have been the guinea pig for a new, reduced dosage, effects unknown. When the last kidnapping attempt had resulted in a child being very nearly killed, he'd had enough. He knew it was time to end it, and he was doing so by telling all. It was the first break Cassie had known in a very long time. There would now be no need for the trials, as the other defendants, presented with overwhelming evidence, had little choice but to plead. Cassie would not have to suffer through even a videotaped recitation of her ordeal.

That left only the question of where she would go next.

- - - - - -

"Steve, what if I became her legal guardian, the way Jim and Helen did for me?" Jaime mused, as the two of them sat arm-in-arm on the fence, supervising while Cassie took her first (slow and careful) ride on Pumpkin, since she'd had her cast removed.

Steve kissed Jaime's cheek and smiled, gazing straight into her eyes. "Helen is a housewife, Sweetheart, and you're...not." He glanced up to make sure the little girl was out of hearing range before continuing. "You know I'd marry you tomorrow – today! - but even then, as a couple, we'd be turned down."

"I guess you're right," Jaime said glumly, faking a brilliant smile at Cassie, who was obediently keeping the horse at a slow gait.

"She reminds me a lot of you," Steve continued, as Jaime flashed him a look of surprise. "Don't be so shocked; she's been through hell and back, pretty much on her own, just like you were once -"

"I know; I'm surprised because you just read my mind, Austin. She reminds me of myself, at 16 – but she's only 12, and...there's gotta be a way I can help her."

Steve grinned, unable to keep it in any longer. "Actually, there is. I just got a phone call from Oscar..."

- - - - - -

**Fifteen Months Later**

_Dear Jaime and Steve,_

_This has been the best birthday – ever! Mom and Dad are taking all of us on a cruise to celebrate. I wanted to write a note to both of you first, because this double celebration would never have happened at all without your testimonies and Mister Goldman's influence. You made this happen, and I could say thank you every day for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough, but...thank you._

_Love,_

_Cassie Phelps_

END


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